isnât.â
âWeâve been through much worse than this.â
âYou always say that, and Iâm always hard-Âpressed to remember just when.â
Miquel slipped his hand behind Diagoâs head and kissed him hard and fast. Just as their lips parted, he whispered, âI love you.â
Diago nodded, because for a moment, he didnât have the breath for anything more. âIâll be back for you.â
âI know you will.â He offered the gun.
Diago shook his head. âThe knife will do. Thereâs another magazine.â He nodded at his left hip and Miquel liberated the silver tips from Diagoâs pocket. They didnât say good-Âbye. They never did. It always seemed so final, and Miquel feared âgood-Âbyeâ might jinx them, so Diago said, âWatch for me.â
âI will.â
Without another word, he settled the golem firmly on his hip, and set off toward the lights. The golem leaned its head on Diagoâs shoulder. The stink of the thing roiled his stomach.
Where the tunnels branched, Diago used the narrow footbridge to cross. He didnât want to risk stepping across and losing his footing. If he stumbled and shattered the golem, there wasnât time to make another.
Several minutes later, he reached a bend in the tunnel. He glanced back. Miquel was gone. Diago licked dry lips and started walking again.
The passage seemed to go on forever. Overhead, the lights sputtered and left thick pools of darkness where the footing was treacherous. Diago lost all track of timeâÂother than to know it was passing for MiquelâÂas he negotiated the narrow walkway and followed the lights. The pounding drums began to sound like the second hand of a clock, ticking away in the night.
Eventually, the scent of smoke tickled his nostrils as he drew close to Molochâs lair. The tunnel developed into a gradual incline and grew wider. The trough became shallow and soon disappeared, leaving a smooth floor beneath Diagoâs feet. All around him, hues of orange and yellow supplemented the harsh electric light. The air grew warmer until it became as hot as a summer day. The stench of rotting corpses gagged him. Diago found it hard to pull a clean breath into his body.
The golem squirmed in his arms. âI love you,â it mumbled with a hoarse voice.
âOh, sweet Jesus.â Diago put his palm over the golemâs face, not so much to shield it from what was to come, but to prevent Moloch from seeing it clearly. Regardless of his intentions, the motion seemed to soothe the golem. It clutched the stuffed horse and shivered less. If Diago merely glanced at the creature, he almost believed that he held Rafael. Maybe it would fool Moloch after all.
Diago held onto that hope as he rounded another bend. The passage opened into a cavernous room. Fire and electric light joined together to cast hellish shadows against the walls. Narrow stairs led up to a catwalk over seven metres off the ground. The catwalk spanned the greater part of the room and ended at an iron stage on the far side of the chamber.
Mounted in the center of the stage was a bronze statue with a bullâs head and a manâs torso. Twin tanks took the place of lions at either arm of the figureâs throne. The wings of biplanes curved upward from the effigyâs back. A string of hollowed bombs formed a necklace, and machine-Âgun turrets fashioned the crown. In the center of the statueâs chest was an open door. Flames burned inside the cavity. The arms were held out, palms up, ready to accept the offering.
Through the metal latticework of the stairs and platform, Diago saw two âaulaqs near the statue. He recognized the shorter male and the one-Âarmed female from the train. The maleâs flesh had been burned from his back and thighs, leaving puckered scar tissue instead of skin. He pushed a coal cart filled with the severed limbs of corpses, which